Paper Airplanes (Ereri - SNK)

Stitches.

Not sure how well the title fits this chapter but eh idc. Enjoy~

Warmth. The sound of soft breathing. My face is pressed into the top of Eren's hair as he sleeps quietly in my arms, one of his own arms still hooked possessively around my waist. It's hard to tell if he dreams; every once in a while his breath will deepen or quicken, his shoulders will tense, and then he'll relax and let out a sigh as if he's more comfortable than he's ever been. The only way to tell for sure are his eyes - if they flick around beneath their lids - but they're impossible to see at this angle.

Those little things are all that make the random, unexpected flashes bearable. Black tendrils floating through water; deep, deep red eyes; a scene where it's as if I'm flying through clouds; random splatters of blood; the sound of a titan screaming; heat, and then an unbearable, bitter cold. Scorpions and spiders. Sharp teeth. I don't know what they mean, but I feel their pull like an almost desperate need for oxygen, and the only reason I haven't suffocated yet is because I no longer require the stuff.

Each flash comes with a bolt of pain through my bones, down my wings, and pounds in my skull for a few moments before it fades out like it was never even present, and fortunately they aren't frequent enough to make the pain constant, but I can't deny each comes sooner than the last, even if just by a hundredth of a second.

As a result, the night seems to last a hundred years, even with the distraction of Eren's scent. Every second the pull grows stronger. Sometime between the quietest moment of the night and sunrise, a dull ache begins to creep up my legs, beginning at my toes, and only stops at the scars encircling my thighs.

And yet despite this pull, despite my "instincts" telling me this isn't where I'm supposed to be, I find myself fighting it harder and harder with each new symptom, and it only helps me better realize how damn much I love this kid in my arms. I want to stay with him as much as, if not more than, he doesn't want me to leave.

And so the night goes by with me running in endless circles in my mind, fighting the instinct and the instinct fighting back. Despite it being evenly matched, it's only for the moment. Because the pain is winning, and I'm too weak to keep this up forever. I am giving in, bit by tiny bit.

* * *

Eren doesn't wake until several hours after sunrise, and the only way I know is due to the damp lips pressing to my chest.

"Morning, kid," I say quietly, untangling myself from around him to allow him to stretch. Just as I stand to light a torch and allow Eren's sleepy eyes some light, his fingers wrap around my wrist.

"Just stay here for a while," he mumbles sleepily, tugging me back down.

"I'm not going anywhere," I say, but sink back onto the mattress anyway.

Eren simply hums, tugging me all the way back down before his hands begin their search, starting at my shoulder and moving toward my neck, brushing his fingers softly over my jaw and cheek until he finds my lips. He moves in slowly, only removing his hand to replace it with his own mouth.

"I want as many of those as I can get," Eren whispers against my lips, "because I don't know how much longer I'll be able to take them."

And I can only press close again, kissing Eren tenderly for as long as I can before he's pulling away for air, and even then I move to pepper his face with soft kisses.

"Didn't I tell you cheesy lines don't suit you?" I mumble.

Eren merely grunts before he sits up, stretching his arms over his head and yawning just as his stomach growls. I stand and light the torch, causing him to squint for a moment as he's passed his shirt and I brush my hand over his hair, attempting to flatten it where my face was buried into it most of the night.